


Duty vs. Desire

by Minhoandthebabes



Category: SHINee
Genre: M/M, Princes & Princesses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:09:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23997295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minhoandthebabes/pseuds/Minhoandthebabes
Summary: Pairing: Kibum / MinhoRating: pg-13Warnings: Drinking, mentions of sexual encountersLength: ??Summary: In his quest to find a companion, Kibum finds himself meeting with someone who is much like him, so much so he must choose between his needs and his wants.A/N: This will be a long-running story, but it's been sitting in my drafts forever so I felt like posting it now.. There definitely will be more chapters in the future! Please let me know if you enjoy it ^^ I love reading comments!
Relationships: Choi Minho/Kim Kibum | Key
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	1. A Prince's Duty

It was only a few hours past dawn. A golden light was trickling past the sheer curtains protecting the throne room. There the Prince sat in his navy robes, a black suit beneath. It was as if he were approaching his own funeral rather than his potential bride to be.

The woman before him was tall, her hair styled atop her head to reveal the smooth neck before it dipped behind the soft lace of her gown.

“Your majesty,” the woman mumbled as she bowed before him.

The prince’s sharp eyes watched as she lowered herself to him. His lips curled up in disgust, but when she lifted her head again, his expression returned to a neutral disinterest.

“We will see you for dinner, princess Minhee. Please, allow your family to make themselves comfortable in your apartment,” the king said, eyeing his son with annoyance.

“Yes, your majesty, we are eternally grateful to be allowed to stay in such a beautiful home.” She replied, bowing once more before she scurried away, her attendants following.

Once the woman was gone the king turned to his son. “What, you don’t like her either?” He asked, his deep voice resounding through the small prince.

“Am I supposed to?” The prince crossed his arms defiantly.

“Yes! We’ve been at this for months and you still haven’t found a bride. Kibum, I know you don’t want to get married, but as a prince, it is your duty to carry the bloodline on to the next generation, and we’re running out of princesses.” The king stood as he spoke, stepping closer and closer to his son as his rage grew.

The prince only scoffed, “I will be in my quarters,” he mumbled, standing from his throne, “Call me when supper is ready.” He walked with his handmaidens to his bedroom.

The familiar room was also filled with the golden light of the sun. The windows facing the east were wide open, bringing in the warm fresh fall air into his room. Once the doors were closed behind him, he tossed his velvet robe to the ground before collapsing onto the lavish bed in the middle of the room, groaning.

“Who does he think he is.. making me get married to these idiots,” Kibum groaned to himself, rolling onto his side. 

A servant behind him picked up the robe and hung it up in his wardrobe. “My prince,” the woman bowed, “the king wishes for you to bathe before tonight’s ceremony.” 

Kibum sat up, looking at her as he narrowed his eyes, “ceremony? I thought we agreed to only having dinner..”

“Your highness, the princess wishes to showcase the might of her kingdom. We will meet for the ceremony at noon.” The handmaiden bowed.

Kibum got off of his bed and stepped towards the woman, “and why do you know about this? Why did she not tell me during our first meeting?”

“She.. wished for it to be a surprise, my prince.” The woman bowed again even deeper.

Kibum shook his head in annoyance. “Fine, fine! What do I care.. why should I care! Draw me a bath, I shall be clean for this afternoon.” 

The woman nodded and ordered the other servants in the room to fill the bath with their finest oils and salts for the prince.

Once Kibum was alone, he was finally able to have some sense of peace. He was tired of the months of courting various women. The princesses presented to him were always incredibly dull. Merely puppets for their fathers to gain the camaraderie of his father and expand their trade routes, Kibum had no interest in such women.

The bath was long and Kibum came out like a prune, his handmaidens covering him in soft towels and blankets to dry off. Before too long he was laying in bed and reviewing the outfits chosen for him that evening. A navy suit, with a deep green velvet cape with white fur beneath seemed to be his best option and he directed the women to dress him and make sure he looked perfect for that afternoon.

He walked through the empty halls of the palace, humming to himself as he made his way to the gardens. It was silent, the only sounds coming from the shuffle of the servants behind him, closing the doors to the rooms he passed.

It was calm, tranquil, everything Kibum enjoyed about the palace. A perfect place for him to be alone with his thoughts. That was, of course, until he entered the gardens.

Once he was outside, the warm sun on his pale skin, the gentle breeze keeping him cool, he was interrupted by the sound of a deep voice talking to a woman in a foreign tongue.

Kibum walked towards the voices through rose bushes and tall shrubs concealing the speakers from view. He rounded a large topiary with the likeness of a lion and came upon the princess and a tall man with large eyes and golden skin sitting in a small pavilion.

He didn’t bow to the two but only waited for them to bow to him before giving a nod of approval.

“Crown Prince Kibum,” the princess addressed.

The man at her side remained standing, his white suit seemed to shine in the sunlight against his glowing skin. 

Kibum hesitated, “you may sit..” He offered, his hand gesturing to the seats before him.

The two sat as did Kibum, his eyes wandering to the strange man. “Who is this?” He asked the woman directly, “do you dress your servants in such royal clothing?”

The woman laughed, soft giggles filling the wooden structure. “He is my brother and a prince like yourself!” She explained, her hand resting on the man’s beside her.

“B- brother? So you are both relatives?” Kibum asked incredulously, “I was never told you had any siblings, what is this trickery?”

She waved a hand away, but it was the man who spoke first, his voice low and thick with an accent he couldn’t place. “I apologize for not making my presence known.” He said, his large eyes locked with Kibum’s briefly before he looked away again. “I thought it best your eyes only be for my sister,” he continued, “as I have heard you are more likely to hold a male's attention during such things.”

Kibum’s ears turned pink as embarrassment and anger rose within him. “That is bold of you to assume the company I keep.” He mumbled through gritted teeth.

“I was only speaking my truth, your majesty,” the man bowed again before standing. “Come, Minhee, I hear the roses are in bloom.” The man held out his arm for his sister to take, guiding her away with a small smirk on his lips. 

Kibum let them leave, sitting and stewing at the pavilion before he stood and stormed off towards the palace.


	2. "Let the Games Begin"

Kibum seethed in his room kicking the things he had left on the floor around. “What does he know?” He asked as he threw a pillow towards the lavish couch in front of a large hearth. “That had to be a trick, he doesn’t know anything. I can’t imagine sharing a dining table with that man!” He growled in one last fit of rage before collapsing onto the pillows and blankets.

A handmaiden quickly entered the bedroom, giving a gentle bow, “my prince, you are expected at the main hall.”

“Put me in my finest!” Kibum commanded loudly to the woman before him, “I want to show that jerk who’s in control here.”

“I- the king needs you now your majesty..” the woman stuttered, shocked by his sudden outburst.

Kibum shook his head, “then the crown jewels! Bring me my crown and scepter!” 

The woman went to protest again but was stopped by the man’s glare, “Yes, your majesty, I will prepare the crown, and please allow your handmaidens to dress you in your best suit.”

Kibum nodded, looking forward to finally getting into a nicer outfit, the one he currently wore felt stuffy, suffocating. He looked in the mirror and felt small. “I’m the prince, I should be in control.” He mumbled to himself. “Yeah.. yeah I’m the prince here..”

A woman bowed before stripping the man back to his undergarments before dressing him in a velvet suit, his body covered in the expensive material. Kibum watched the whole time, observing as his body transformed from a small man to a mighty prince.

“There.. that’s better, that’ll show him not to talk down to me in my own home.” He smirked at himself before dismissing his maids.

It had been over an hour since he had been called to the main hall, but he also knew being late meant he could make a more dramatic entrance.

Kibum flipped his fur cape over his shoulder before making his way to the main hall. This room was only reserved for special performances and events. The room itself was gilded and lined with mirrors and late bay windows that would open to the cool night air during balls. For performances such as this, a small stage would be set up for the royal family and their guests so they could look down on the players giving their scrutiny.

Instead of entering through the back door to slip into his princely throne, he chose to enter from the main door, letting the servants open the door for him, bowing gently as he entered. 

“Prince Kibum!” The king gasped as soon as his eyes fell on his lavish son. 

Kibum strutted towards his throne and sat tall, looking down at those around him. “I hope I didn’t interrupt,” he said loud enough for all to hear, “please, continue.” 

“We have been waiting on you,” the Queen hissed, “this event is for you, my son.”

Kibum simply nodded, smirking when the princess's brother’s eyes met his briefly but the man seemed to look away with disinterest. Kibum pouted and crossed his arms, ignoring the introductions from the players before him as he slumped in his seat

The players recreated the princess’s history, being sure to incorporate the benefits that joining their kingdoms would bring, a boring story, and mostly propaganda Kibum didn't wish to follow. Kibum barely listened, however, his mind was mostly preoccupied with the man in the white and golden suit.

* * *

He couldn’t place what it was that annoyed him about the man. The man was taller than Kibum, he had large eyes, well-groomed hair. Maybe that was it, his stylist must have been better, maybe he should take the man’s barber. Perhaps it was only the fact that the man before him listened to such silly rumors. His mind was abundant with reasons to hate the other, but his train of thought was cut off when the man caught his eye again and looked away with a smirk.

Kibum slammed his fist into his armrest, damn that man. He should be banned from this kingdom if only Kibum had such power he would command it then and there.

“My son, I know the players are moving, but please do not react so openly, it is uncouth.” The queen advised, whispering softly to him under the sounds of a singer who would narrate certain parts of the story.

Kibum rolled his eyes and only watched the rest of the event with feigned interest. By the end, the guests clapped but Kibum merely stared at them as they left the room.

“Come now!” The king exclaimed jovially as he stood, taking the attention for himself, “the feast is ready, let us dine until we are fat and happy.” He announced, making his way towards the dining hall.

Kibum followed behind his father and mother, keeping his head held high. He sat in his usual seat for such affairs, the chair already prepared with his usual gilded cutlery to put him above those who sat around him.

He removed his cape only to drape it on the back of the chair behind him to add even more cushion to the already soft seat.

As usual, the princess sat across from him, smiling delicately as she sat. Kibum finally realized she was wearing something different than she had been wearing when they met in the garden. He only blinked at the realization but didn’t say a word. Compliments showed interest, interest gave his parents hope, and he couldn’t have that.

He heard the chair beside him slide out as someone sat. He turned, opening his mouth to make a comment to who he assumed would be his mother sitting to his right, but when he saw the gold flash of buttons, the bright white of the suit, he balled his hand into a fist on his lap. 

“Isn’t this the opposite of your goal?” Kibum hissed to the other as the rest of the guests found their seats.

The man beside him frowned, “The opposite? Well, my sister requested that I sit beside you and make your acquaintance.”

Kibum scoffed, “oh is that it?” He asked, “your presence is not welcome beside me.” He waved a hand.

“Is it not? Your eyes followed my own more than the performance, perhaps I misread the gesture..”

Kibum fought the urge to yell at the other, he fought the desire to slam the table and request this man stop talking in rhymes. 

Once he was able to relax he finally asked, “What is your name?”

“Minho, Choi Minho.. your majesty,” he bowed to the other but his lips still held a smirk. Kibum didn’t know whether to read it as the man being cocky or if he really did know more about Kibum than he realized.

“Well, Choi Minho, I hope you don’t mind if I say, you are not welcome in my kingdom, and you never will be.” He spat, only low enough for the other man to hear.

Minho opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say a word, the servants brought out platter after platter of copious food followed by maidens with wine. The man’s lips closed and soon he was smirking again. “Fine, I’ll make a deal with you little prince.. if I can outdrink you, I win..”

“That! That is not fair!” Kibum frowned, “the wine is meant to be enjoyed, it is not some whiskey or mead we drink.”

“If wine is the only thing we are served, then wine it must be.” Minho took his glass once it was full and clinked it with Kibum’s which still remained on the table untouched. “Make sure you keep track.. I know I will.”

Kibum grumbled and picked up his glass, sipping from it with poise before he nibbled on the food from his plate.  _ Keeping up with that idiot will be easy _ , Kibum thought before picking up his glass and downing it with ease.

The man next to him chuckled, clicking his glass with his finger in a request for more, “let the games begin.”


	3. "Anything you saw was a dream"

Kibum awoke with a splitting headache and the overwhelming need to use the toilet. He sat up, ready to sprint out of his bed when he felt something heavy across his waist. He looked out the window from where he sat and realized it was well past dawn, well past his usual wake up time and well past breakfast. The sun was high, warming the room to the point of discomfort that only worsened the pain in his head. 

He threw off the covers and when he looked down he was met with a tan arm laying across his bare pale stomach.

Kibum gulped when he realized who that arm must have belonged to. He nudged the limb off of his torso only to be met with a gentle groan as the man curled deeper into the sheets.

“B- bathroom,” Kibum stuttered, reminding himself as he stood and stumbled to the small door on the other side of the room. He tripped over articles of clothing, shoes, his cape that had now been crumpled on the floor beside the bathroom door.

The room looked like a tornado had flown through, picking up everything in its path. He was about to sit down when he noticed the white regal suit that man had worn the previous night. It was perfectly folded with the coat hanging neatly from its hook. Kibum was about the get mad at the man, wake him up, and make him explain why he hadn’t taken care of his clothing too, but then he realized, he had lost. He had lost the bet and to wake him now would only open him to ridicule and taunting.

Kibum sat on the toilet and groaned, his head in his hands. He picked up a mirror and inspected his face making sure no damage had been done, there was no evidence from the previous night, no evidence from whatever had happened. And, as far as he knew, nothing had happened between them, but all the signs were there, and in his position, he couldn’t help but feel a strain in his chest.

He finished cleaning himself up and stood, staring at his disheveled appearance in the mirror. Too many garments had been removed, and he found himself staring back at the pale expanse of his skin in the dim light of the bathroom the only things tarnishing his porcelain skin were the dark circles under his eyes due to a night of drinking and merriment. 

Kibum wished to stay looking in the lavish mirror. He wished to continue to hide away from his mistake outside, but he was to be King, and if he was King, such a mistake never would have happened, and if it had, he would command the other to leave his rooms at once. He nodded to himself, yes, an approach such as that would be enough.

On his way out of the bathroom, he grabbed a fur cloak, letting it hide his body from the other's view. He passed the fireplace and snatched one of the tools he would use on a cold winter's night to prod the fire in order to keep it alive.

He hovered over the man, poking him gently with the pointy end of the tool as if it were a foil from his fencing lessons. “Get up!” He commanded the figure that only groaned and attempted to escape the sharp tool, “Don’t make me use this thing!”

“Use what thing?” The man finally asked, poking his head out from under the soft blankets.

“This..” Kibum looked down at the tool in his hand, “This.. I don’t know, what do you call this thing?” He frowned.

The man before him snorted and was soon laughing before him, “Fire poker?” He offered through his loud chuckles. 

“Y- yes!” Kibum said confidently, his cheeks turning red as he tried to defend himself. “Yes! The word only escaped me momentarily, stop laughing!” He claimed, poking the man just enough that it would hurt.

Minho’s laughs soon halted as a hand moved to the upper part of his chest to where he had been stabbed, the skin already turning purple with a bruise. “I’ll stop, please..” he shook his head, “My body is in too much pain to sustain such laughter.”

Kibum narrowed his eyes, “Surely in pain from drink..” He attempted to clarify, wanting any information he could glean off of the other's words,

“Yes, from drink, and last night’s.. Exciting activities.” He smirked a bit, looking at Kibum directly. The eyes made Kibum’s skin crawl. He pulled the cloak tighter, hiding any small sliver of skin that could be exposed apart from a pale hand and his head.

“You.. you had no permission to see the prince’s body.” Kibum threatened, though his voice quivered.

Minho only frowned before him, his face seemed to mock him even before he opened his mouth. “That’s not what you said last night. It took more effort than you would expect, keeping you from stripping in the hall.” Minho explained with clarity, “You are quite light, but you fight like a wild cat.”

Kibum couldn’t help the proud look on his face as he stood a bit taller, “Surely you mean I fight with the poise and accuracy of a cat.” He nodded, playing with the fake weapon he had in his hand still.

The man shook his head, “No, no I mean you mostly flail your arms and legs about, perhaps that is more like how a frog would fight..” The man looked off in thought, “Perhaps how a mink would fight, my sister used to have a pet mink and that felt similar-”

“Out.” Kibum commanded with a low growl, not letting the man continue, “Get out! You are not welcome here, you have never been welcome in my chambers! Whatever happened last night never happened, erase it from your memory and your mind, or I shall have you hanged!”

Minho, being a wise man, took his opportunity to leave. He fled, grabbing his clothing and stumbling into the pants, saving his shirt to button once he had left the room.

When the doors burst open, a frantic scene was exposed to Kibum. His handmaiden stood near the entrance while the usual maids which cleaned his room mid-morning whispered amongst themselves. Surely they whispered rumors, surely they whispered lies, lies they must have been. Kibum, still wearing his undergarments and a cloak to shelter himself from the cool fall winds coming from the open windows of his room, stepped into the fray and looked at the women and men fussing before him.

“Anything you saw was a dream. If my father hears of this, I will personally find a way to make your job a living hell,” He threatened, “Now, please clean my room, I will take my morning bath now if you do not mind.” He nodded to them cordially before disappearing to the bathroom.


	5. "Pull!"

The sun was on its descent when Kibum found himself having to interact with Minho again. It was Kibum’s father who had suggested shooting clay pigeons to impress the princess and Kibum had no choice but to agree with the man seeing as the whole point was to woo the woman.

Kibum walked behind his father as they made their way into the gardens, away from the home. The weather was just cool enough to wear a light jacket while the sun's rays warmed his light skin. He was enjoying his stroll through the garden, enjoying his thoughts to himself, but they were soon interrupted by the loud voice of the princess’s father meeting with Kibum’s. With the distant king came the far-too-close prince in tow.

Kibum didn’t look, he didn’t speak, he wouldn’t dare. Not here, not in front of his father, he wouldn’t make a mockery out of the kingdom, but once he had that man alone again all he wanted to do was fight him on what had happened the previous night.

“So, this is how you thank me?” Minho’s voice was low with a hint of a tease, “I suppose it’s fair, I did surprise you, but I really deserve more credit.” Kibum glanced out of the corner of his eye to see the man pouting. The image was cute, the image was annoying, he wanted to slap it off of the man’s face, but he knew he had no leg to stand on. There was so much information he had lost, and so much he wished to gain.

“I have no reason to thank you.” He said bluntly despite the anxious quiver in his voice. “I have no reason..”

The small group of men turned the corner entering a large expanse of empty land to practice their aim. Kibum’s sharp eyes looked over the field. He recalled playing in this very field when he was young. The stories he and his friends would tell beneath the large tree in the center, each of them playing a part in their own little play of make-believe. Then, when he was older and his father taught him how to shoot the shotgun before training him how to aim at the targets. He found himself smiling fondly at the memories, but he was soon taken from his thoughts by a deep voice beside him.

“Shall we play another game?” The man asked lowly, “If I win, I get to share the evening with you again. But.. if you win, I will tell you everything that happened last night. In detail.” He added, whispering against Kibum's ear.

A shiver trickled down Kibum’s spine and pooled in a location he would much rather ignore for the time being.

“Fine.” He started, turning to look at the other, “But, if I win, you will tell me everything, and you no longer get to speak to me again!”

Minho chuckled, “Fine by me, let’s hope you’re lucky..” he nodded and turned to leave Kibum with his thoughts. The thoughts that were so deafening. He found his head reeling with the possibilities of what had occurred that previous night. He wondered how long that man would hold it over his head, how long he would be stuck thinking of what could possibly have happened.

“Pull!”

The clay disks flew from their traps and Kibum watched as Minho’s was shot directly, resulting in three points. Meanwhile, Kibum let his fall into the grassy field. His shock with the other's precision distracting him from his goal.

“Looks like you want me to win,” Minho smirked as they reloaded and changed position.

Kibum furrowed his brow, determined to focus this round.

“Pull!”

His second chance, Kibum clipped the side of it before taking his second chance to shoot his target from the sky, obliterating the disk. He chewed his lip, two points, and now he didn’t know what Minho had scored, putting him at quite the disadvantage. They changed position now without any snide remarks this time. He had to focus, he had no choice. When they were lined up it was Kibum’s chance to start.

He looked behind him to see everyone lined up for the shot and assumed the position as well.

“Pull!” He called out this time and felt his heart race as the third round began.

Kibum pulled the trigger and finally hit one head on practically squealing in his victory, but he tried to contain the excitement when he felt Minho's dark eyes on him. Three points putting him at five. He was sure Minho had made all of his shots up until this point he would need a miracle on these last two rounds.

Minho nudged Kibum, telling him to head to the back so they could start the next round. And Kibum was quick to obey, his heart pumping from the adrenaline of shooting the gun, the adrenaline of the hunt, the adrenaline of Minho’s hand patting his shoulder. No, that couldn’t be right. It was the contest, that had to be where this nervous excitement was coming from.

“Pull!” Minho’s deep voice called out and Kibum shivered a bit making it harder to line up the shot.

He took a penalizing two hits to knock the clay bird from the sky. Two more points and he still felt incredibly far from his goal. One more chance, he had one more chance. He had to knock Minho from his tower somehow.

The man walked back and Kibum found himself face to face as he pulled at straws to put more pressure on the other. “W- While you may be fair in face, your backside is more beautiful to look at, especially when it leaves my quarters.” He whispered to the man as he passed, making sure to eye the man’s back as he passed. Deep down Kibum knew what he had said was true, but this was a game they were playing, that was all, and it had worked. 

“Pull!”

The clay flew, Kibum focused on his target all the while Minho watched on in shock. Three points, a perfect hit. He smirked and turned back at the other. “Why don’t you draw up a painting, it shall last longer,” Kibum said bluntly before turning to see the scoreboard.

King Kim Kijang: 13

King Choi Mingyeom: 13

Prince Kim Kibum: 10

Prince Choi Minho: 11

Kibum whipped back around, his mouth gaping in shock and anger, “I- I thought- I-” He stammered attempting to fight against Minho’s big grin.

“As usual, I win.” he shrugged, “I didn’t expect you to go that far, isn’t that a bit too bold?” He asked, glancing back at the kings complimenting each other on a game well played. 

“R- Rematch! I want one, I.. Father!” He turned around but the king was too busy, too preoccupied in his own affairs to notice his son experiencing his second shock for that day. 

Minho leaned closer, a soft fall breeze carrying his voice “I guess I get to visit you after dinner, then.” The warm sun glimmering off his golden skin. Kibum felt as if he wanted to live in this space forever, pause the world just to stay there forever with the man's gentle brown eyes on his own. Minho smirked, "why don't you draw up a painting, surely it will last longer." he repeated lowly.  When the man pulled away with a soft smile Kibum felt the annoyance and anxious energy fill him again that had him storming away, back to the group of women who had watched the event from the sidelines.

It was nearing dinner time and Kibum wasn’t any closer to solving the mystery of what had occurred between the two that previous night. He wondered if he would ever get to know or if that memory was lost at the bottom of a glass he couldn’t seem to finish. 


End file.
